Gnistan

Det blåser ute och det viner och tjuter från mina fönster mot kyrkogården. I mig händer det inte mycket. Allt står still. Känner mig torr och fnasig inombords, som om jag flagnar bort lite grann. Har hemsk PMS och känner mig en aning tillplattad efter de kriser jag gick igenom för ett par månader sedan. Måste hitta tillbaka till den där gnistan igen. Den som verkligen definierar vem jag är. Just nu är jag bara en platt pappversion av mig själv.

Ibland önskar jag att min hud var av teflon. Eller järn. Något som inte absorberar allt runt omkring. Något som avvisar andras negativitet, drama, ondska och mörker. Jag önskar att jag kunde välja vilka känslor jag ska känna, istället för att känna allihop,  hela tiden på högsta volym. Den enda känslan som ofta liknar en viskning, är lycka. Jag försöker ge den en röst – det tar tid och jag förstör hela tiden med min förbannade oro och rädsla. Vad är jag ens rädd för?

Livet.

Men det måste levas, jag är faktiskt rätt bra på det – i alla fall när jag drar på mig teflonhuden och låter den där gnistan spraka högre än all rädsla.

Jag klär mig ständigt i andras bild av vem jag är för dem. Jag är ful. Dum. Självisk. En idiot. Tragisk. I deras bild av vem jag är, finns inte gnistan, bara sånt som de anser är fel. I deras bild av mig, finns inte jag.

Jag är här. Lyssnar till vinden. Lyssnar för att se om det sprakar någonstans därinne. Tänker lyssna tills jag hör. Ska klä av mig deras bilder och klä på mig ett lager teflonhud tills jag inte längre känner det som inte tillhör mig.

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No movement

I have been trying to write here for a few days now, but it is like there’s something is in the way, something blocking my thoughts. I am also trying to price my art and it feels like pricing my soul. It’s very uncomfortable. My latest collection is really personal, almost private. Next year marks the fourth year of working on it. That’s crazy. I need to finish it and move on.

 

All the different me’s

All of my different sides are visible in my art.

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I haven’t felt like myself for a while. I’m a little torn between different versions of myself. The office-me, the artist-me, the Swedish-speaking-me and the English-speaking me, the strong me, the scared me etc. It can be a confusing at times. I’ve always had many sides to my personality and also many layers within each side which makes me a bit complicated to say the least. This is also visible in my art. I don’t have one single signature style, but various forms of expressions. I can be raw, I can be cute, I can be dark, I can be colorful. And I can be all those things at once. Even though I win many different followers and collectors by using different techniques and styles, I sort of envy artist with a clear signature style – because they are so dedicated to it. I am too restless, too curious about the next level of expression. I am always moving forward and I can’t go back to a successful style or expression even if I’d want to. When I move on, I never look back. Going back to an old style wouldn’t feel genuine and it would look forced. So, I guess that is my style – to always reinvent myself and my visual expression. On a deeper level, I believe I’ve used my art to rediscover and reclaim all the sides to myself that used to be censored or oppressed by other people.

The stranger

I’ve had some difficult days with health problems. I believe we attract diseases and physical issues which reflect our emotional wounds, almost like a physical manifestation of our heartache. In my case, I’m having issues with my gut (where I believe my core is located) and lately also with my heart. I have had so many years of heartache, anxiety and emotional suffering and it has affected my body in various ways. I have to be kinder to it and give it even more love and care.

PTSD symptoms are often connected to a survival strategy of dissociative behavior. Mine was to separate body and mind so I’d be able to endure painful incidents and uncomfortable situations. I have gotten so used to numbing both the pain and the desires of my body for so  many years, that I don’t know much about what my body wants or likes. In a notebook from a therapy session, I wrote: “my body is a stranger”.

I have worked so hard to change the behavior of my mind but not as much when it comes to changing my physical behavior. I have been talking a lot about the importance of balance – and when it comes to finding a balance between body and mind, I am still looking for it. The mind has gotten all the benefits of my therapy work, so now it’s time to focus on my body, my health and physical connections. I have to learn how to trust my body just as much as I trust my mind. I have to learn how to love it, accept it and how nurture it – and I can only do that by listen to what it has to say. What is is trying to protect? Where does it store the pain? The joy? What does it like? What does it want to do that I’m not allowing it?

I think going back to painting will be the perfect therapy. Working with digital art can be a bit sterile and I can’t wait to get sweaty, messy and drained from some physical labor.

Vädrar ut mörkret

Under en kvävande migrän, slaktar jag gamla spöken. Vädrar ur mörkret. Renar luften i min själ. Har aldrig varit särskilt bra på att stänga mitt hjärta men nu sker det. Jag är ändå för gammal för att ha ett barns vidöppna hjärta. Är alldeles för blåmärkt ända in där det blöder som mest. Hur många gånger har jag gått sönder. Hur många gånger har jag läkt. Antalet förlorade hjärtslag är en massgrav där inne.

Jag tog emot alla som kom nära. Sög nästan, in andra själar i min. Släppte igenom åskan. Deras blixtrar brände sig igenom alla lager. Elektricitetens armar piskade som lavetter på insidan. Allt det mjuka skulle de utplåna, ända tills metallsmaken isade i min hjärna.

Jag drar ihop mig.

Samtidigt lossnar metallsmaken.

Jordan Wolfson – Female Figure (2014)

One of my favorite works of art.

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In the fall of 2013, artist Jordan Wolfson moved to Los Angeles to work with a special effects studio on “(Female figure),” an animatronic sculpture that takes the form of an attractive woman, dancing provocatively in the uncanny valley. Dressed in a negligee and bearing scuffs and dirt marks, what Wolfson calls “the dancer” shimmies and gyrates to a pop music soundtrack. Through advanced facial recognition technology, she locks eyes on the viewers behind her, watching them through a mirror to which she is permanently fixed. Her physical presence is in dialogue with the voice of Wolfson, which emanates from her lips between songs, disclosing the secrets of a male identity. According to the New York-based artist, the sculpture is less about the contemporary woman than the contemporary experience of being looked at—and the violence of that objectification.

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Time obsession

Ever since I started my daytime job, I’ve had a hard time adjusting to my new relationship with time. The stress of time, the lack of time, the loss of time, the dream of being able to control it. I used to have all the days and nights to myself. Time didn’t even exist. I was only reminded of it during my calls to Johnny in California; when it was night here and early morning over there. We’ve always been divided by an ocean and 9 hours. But as a working girl, my life has transformed from a timeless zone to a normal timeline of work, play, rest and everyday routines and rituals.

However, I feel as I have accepted this loss of freedom to do whatever I want, whenever I want – and I don’t feel stressed anymore. I won’t squeeze in too many creative projects after I come home from work, I know I’ll just end up exhausted and drained. I will make art and be creative when I feel like it. I think that’s how it’s supposed to work anyway.

I have been talking to my therapist about how I’ve felt obsessed with (the lack of) time since I started working and when I listen to myself talk about it, I can hear how it so obviously related to my past. I have wasted so many years, so much time and heartblood on all the wrong things. I have so much I want to experience, so much I wish to explore and create. I am getting older and time is slipping away. I am not scared of Death but terrified of not living my life to the fullest.

I am 20 years late. Or just in time. To live my life without the fear of losing even more time. I trust myself to know better. I trust life to bring me more tomorrows than yesterdays.

En ny slags tystnad

Jag njuter av en ny slags tystnad. En tystnad som sker djupt inom mig själv. Har gjort så många misstag på sista tiden och varit på drift i ett mörker jag inte trodde jag skulle behöva besöka igen. Nu är det över. Och nu är det verkligen över, på så många sätt. Tystnaden brusar skönt. Jag njuter. Allt står liksom stilla. Jag har upplevt känslan tidigare, men inte ofta. Allt är plötsligt som det ska – jag är i fas med livet och mig själv igen. Jag vet vad jag vill, vem jag på väg att bli och vart jag är på väg. Det är skrämmande hur lätt det fortfarande är för mig att gå vilse i mina sinnen. Hur skör jag är inför mörkret – inför andra människors svarta hål. Jag gör det till mitt, virvlar runt där tills jag inte längre vet vem jag är. Jag tappar bort mig själv ibland. Men jag hittar också snabbare tillbaka nu.

Johnny är fortfarande vaken på andra sidan världen. Känner hans hand i min. Kommer aldrig släppa den mer. Den här tystnaden ger våra rötter mer syre att växa ihop. Det kittlar skönt att bli ännu mer intrasslad bland hans rötter.

Black on black

Dead Lolitas by Mia Makila

“Dead Lolitas” by Mia Makila, 2017 [digital[

I had some kind of breakthrough in my thoughts about my future painting last night. It was wonderful. The Dead Lolita theme has felt old for some time now. I don’t connect with the role of Lolita anymore, I’ve come too far on my journey of self-empowerment. It has been four years since I first got the idea of killing my inner Lolita – and I think I killed her on the way without even noticing. All the artworks for the Lolita show will be included in other collections.

The new theme for a future collection of paintings is “black on black” – whatever that might be. I have worked a lot with demon portraits against a black background and I would say it is my signature style. I love playing around with different nuances of black, adding more life to the dark and, often flat, color. I will also go back to making mixed media pieces instead of just acrylic on canvas – I have some new ideas I want to explore when it comes to my technique. This is exciting! I have already prepared some canvases. All covered with black paint, of course.

Saturday morning

Stranger Things 2

It’s early Saturday morning and I’m watching the second season of Stranger Things in bed. I am also thinking about how clear-minded I feel at the moment. I have rediscovered my path again and I’ll hold on to it harder this time.

Since I have my personal life in order, I will focus on my art from now on. I have a lot of hard work to do. First, I have to price my digital pieces, make a great pricelist and then I have to finish the new collection. Nothing or no one is allowed to come in between me and my art now. I feel ready to make this new journey. The time has come for me to reclaim my career.

 

Forbidden area

At the hospital for another therapy session

Therapy day. I had a lot to talk about this time. I am still a magnet for destructive connections, especially when it comes to men. “If you didn’t have your art, I’m sure you would have been even more self-destructive”, she said. It is not the first time someone has told me that my creativity seem to be a matter of life and death for me. I am so grateful for all my talents – and for being an artist. I have a great outlet for my anxiety and all my fears because of it. A place where I get to deal with all my forbidden emotions – like rage. It is forbidden and out of reach since I have a problem with exposing anger in real life. I don’t get angry, I just get sad, but of course the anger is still there – and I have a lot of it. Just look at my paintings.

I need to take my creativity even more seriously from now on. It is what keeps me balanced. Perhaps it is my fear of anger that makes it so difficult for me to go back to painting, since it is the main element in my visual expression as a painter.

The anger might be my pandora’s box. Once I figure out how to set it free, I’m sure it would both be explosive and liberating. Exposing my anger in a more honest way, is an equally scary as a wonderful thought. It would  be ugly but it would set me free. I have all my talents and my artistic skills as the perfect tools for bringing it out. Writing, visual art, photography. I just have to figure out how to approach the forbidden areas of my mind.

If Michael Jackson could do it, so can I.

Tusen månar

Det är så mörkt ute. Som om någon stulit månljuset, men innanför min hud brinner tusen månar. Jag är fylld av en längtan som läcker igenom varje tanke. Gör mig nästan sjuk. Önskar jag kunde klä av huden och låta månljuset flöda ut över världen. Vill lysa.

SALE! Digital works from 2012

As I am trying to make room for my upcoming collection “No Place Like Home”, I’ve decided to get rid of some older pieces. I am selling these two pieces from 2012 to a great price, both are matted and ready to be shipped. I accept international PayPal payments and Swedish bank transfers. If you want to adopt a piece, send me an email: miamakila@gmail.com

 

TESS by Mia Makila, 2012, digital collage. 30 x 30 cm + white border. Matted. Original print 2/10 printed with high quality pigment ink on archival paper (Hahnemühle Photo Rag 308g). Signed and numbered by the artist. 4500 SEK (7500 SEK), 463 EURO, 537 USD

HAPPY DAY by Mia Makila, 2012, digital collage. 30 x 30 cm + white border. Matted. Original print 1/5 printed with high quality pigment ink on archival paper (Hahnemühle Photo Rag 308g). Signed and numbered by the artist. 4500 SEK (7500 SEK), 463 EURO, 537 USD